Page 106 of Vampires of Eden
“Not really. You’re simply… a product of your environment? But you can stop manipulating it, Alexander. You can change and start listening to the supernatural, divine and archaic entity inside of you. It’s there for a reason. Let it guide you.”
A cool breeze picks up, caressing the skin of my arms and face. It blows the wayward strands of my braid so that they tickle and dance at my neck. Alexander’s hands remain gripped in mine, warm and calm. Stable and focused.
“What if I listen to it—and I let myself be guided by it,” he begins, “but… it wants something that it can’t have? Again…” His cheeks redden as he waits, watching me like he’s holding his breath.
Letting go of one hand, I lift and brush my fingers against his cheek. The moment I touch his skin, he closes his eyes. He takes hold of my wrist to keep my palm against his face. The tenderness of the gesture makes my weak nature swell brightly from head to toe.
“You should be brave and trust it,” I say softly. “Listen and know that it won’t steer you wrong. Don’t be afraid of it.”
He turns his head so that his mouth and nose are nestled in the curve of my palm. My breath hitches, but he doesn’t kiss me. His mouth makes no movement. He closes his eyes and I’m captivated as he inhales, breathing me in. I feel alive with his citrus-champagne energy racing up my arm—ignited from the touch of his lips to my skin and his hand gripped around my wrist.
The sunlight pours over us. Flowers bloom and the pollen-dusted bees bear witness to the quiet beauty of this moment and our mirrored bodies.
“I’ll start listening,” he says, his breath and voice vibrate against my hand as he speaks. It sends shivers across every inch of my flesh. “I’ll try.”
When we finish our yoga stretches, I all but run straight up to my room because I need to put some distance between myself and the golden magnetism of this purebred. It rushes and prickles through my body as I take the steps and I’m overheated from the sunlight and his alluring scent.
I push my bedroom door shut and head straight to the bathroom, tear off my t-shit, sweatpants and underwear, then throw myself into the shower. When I turn on the water, it streams cool at first, but does nothing to calm what’s happening inside of my nature and body.
The spray hits my chest as I pull the end of my braid loose and set my hair tie aside, then I step forward, letting the flow of water pour over my face and head—allowing it to soak my hair and make it heavy against my neck and back.
I close my eyes and Alexander is there. Everywhere. Luminous eyes like a roaring fire, or perhaps the golden hour of the day when every surface becomes bathed in vivid light.
The sincerity and quiet charm laced within the depths of his gaze stirs me. Something hungry and twisted inside of me wants to make an absolute mess of him—to tear down all his fragile walls and the rigid misconceptions engrained in him so that he can re-build a fresh and new perspective. So that we can both heal and be stronger, together.
The water runs warm over my body as I take the soap and work until it’s foamy in my hands. Closing my eyes once more, I realize how badly I want to taste his mouth. From the smell of him alone, I know his essence will be heavenly on my tongue. The texture and wetness of him truly divine to my senses.
His lips, the warmth of his skin and his square shoulders. His long legs, the absurdly perfect shape of his ass and the hardness of his cock. I could make him hard if he let me close enough. If he let me in.
Biting into his flesh and feeling his citrusy essence pour into me, seductively tracing and filling my insides. Coursing and intermingling with my own blood and essence.
Suddenly, breathlessly, I wantallof it.
I want him to touch me with confidence and I want to put my hands on him. I want to make him come—gasping and satisfied and smiling in his fucking charming and sweet way.
The vision of us entwined, uninhibited and pleasing each other floods my mind as I pump my fist around my cock and lose myself in the fantasy. God, what I wouldn’t give at this point. The things I’d do to him.
When the climax hits, it grips me hard and I gasp within the cloud of steam, still feeling him and the morning sunlight and the flowers against my skin like sparks from a welder’s flame.
Slowly, the tension in my body relinquishes and I slump against the dampened tiled wall, reveling in the soft and delicious quivers of the orgasm. It tingles, centered in my groin and stomach, then dances up to my spine and head. Down my legs, making my knees weak.
Soaked and exhausted, I huff in a laugh. Alexander has barely been in the cottage for twenty-four hours and this is the second time I’ve pleasured myself from the thought and nearness of him. He’s creating this itch deep inside of me, and yet, he refuses to scratch it.
He’s attracted to me. The evidence is irrefutable and I want him too.
Why does this need to be complicated? Why can’t we just skip to the part where I lazily roll over in my bed and he’s naked beside me—relaxed and confident and we make love without even speaking. When a single word doesn’t need to pass between our lips—only soft kisses and hitched, satisfied breaths as we stare into each other’s eyes.
A younger Daniel would have blindly walked into this. The haughty asshole who stupidly fell for Josefina. Alexander is nothing like Josefina, though. And I’m not that Daniel anymore.
God, karma and the universe, can’t this time be different, somehow?
Can’t I have hope?
CHAPTER 24
Alexander
Danny told me to try listening to my nature. The irony here is that it’s impossible tonotlisten, because it screams at me, loudly, like a PA system making intrusive announcements over the chaotic bustle of an airport. I know what it’s telling me because the message echoes clearly all throughout my body.
